Worshipping The Fire
by Blaise O'Connor
Summary: For all the little moments. And even the big ones. Short stories for moments concerning my OC Blaise O'Connor and Sam Winchester. There are ten per chapter, and, hopefully, ten chapters. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Worshipping The Fire**

_Short stories for moments concerning my OC Blaise O'Connor and Sam Winchester. There are ten per chapter, and, hopefully, ten chapters. I hope you enjoy (and review)._

**1. "Sunday Mornings"**

The feeling of two fingertips tracing the skin of his arm woke him from his peaceful, Sunday morning slumber next to his wonderfully complicated girlfriend, Blaise, who was looking down at him from her place next to him in bed, a smile on her face. She didn't care if her red hair was a mess at the moment. Sam was only reminded of how much he was impossibly in love with her at that moment, his own smile appearing as suddenly as his love for her did, surprising them both.

Usually, he was discontented with someone not caring what they looked like but, with her, it seemed magical and graceful. Maybe it was because of where it came from. Not from arrogance or simply not caring enough about others, or even from confidence. It was from deep within her heart. Her love for the people around her kept Blaise too busy to think about her herself. The way she looked at him with everything she felt in her eyes made him melt. It showed him how much she cared, and how much raw emotion he provoked in her very soul.

Her eyebrow raised at his staring, accepting his kiss not a moment later with a giggle as warm arms engrossed her. As their tongues glided gently in a rhythm all their own, Sam couldn't help but shift, bringing his love down to lay beneath him, pressed closely to his body: where she belonged. "God, you smell wonderful," he whispered in her ear between earth shattering kisses.

Her laugh echoed through the room with a smile that made Sam just want to make her completely his and only his. "Are you kidding? I smell like cheap motel soap and," Blaise lifted her wrist to elegantly sniff the skin there. "You."

Sam smirked as he rolled Blaise over to rest atop of him, "I know."

**2. "Race Way Love"**

My hair floated up above me in my moment of utter joy. The car I worked so hard on reaching ninety and still climbing as I stepped on the accelerator. Looking over after one specifically dangerous turn, my eyes drink in the smile of the man that makes me rethink doing this-until he offered to go with me. Maybe it was because we were on a track this time-making it legal. I'll never know.

His hair was currently zooming out the open window, flying off in a direction all its own. "Sam!" I call out over the roar of the engine. When he looks over at me, an automatic reaction to the calling of his name, his smile still graced his ever, handsome features. "I love you," I mouthed. For the first time.

Sam was full of firsts for me and even this was one of them.

**3. "Boredom and Tin Hats"**

Two bodies laid out together, baking in the surfer's sun. The two couldn't care less, though, even if one of them had a pale, ginger skin tones.

A giggle came from the red head a moment later, her smile morphing her face into one of joy. "C'mon, Sammy, let's dance naked and wear tin hats, aim for mars!" She poked her partner's arm, a mocking grin on her face. "It's our day, our world, our horizon to conquer!"

Sam looked at his still unofficial girlfriend in amusement, "Tin hats?" He watched as she combed sand from her hair. "I don't know but we should do something special or odd!" Blaise laid back down with a huff, sandy hair forgotten, and sand angels forming. "It's a beautiful, wonderful, magnificent day outside!"

"You," Sam propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her with a grin. "Get bored too easily." A kiss was on the edge of their lips as he hovered over her.

**4. "Every Hair"**

A glare was the thanks he received for his seemingly evil deed; the pink plus sign proved his guilt, at least in her mind. "How did this even happen?"

A shrug and a suppressed incredibly brilliant smile were her only responses from the ecstatic male. "You suck." The red head threw the offending test to the ground, her face horrified. "If you did this on purpose, Sam, I swear to god," Blaise stormed out of the bathroom they had previously stuffed themselves in. Even Riley, whom normally ignored her best friend's tantrums, turned to watch Blaise leave their shared room, slamming the door after her. "Sam! What the fuck just happened?"

His head popped out from the framed door, a slight smile on his puppy dog face. "I have no clue," with a shrug of his shoulders, he came out from behind his door to lay on the bed both he and Blaise had claimed the night before upon arrival.

Riley looked at Sam oddly, as if he had grown another head. "What are you so happy about? If your brother was here he would be pouring salt down your throat."

The echo of repetitive hits to a hard surface, followed by mangled sentences and loud curses, interrupted the gleeful man's reply. "If you go outside you'll probably get an earful of what happened."

Riley frowned, concerned for the safety of her friend and the building, proceeding to make her way to the door. "If you did something bad, so help me, I'll help Blaise pluck every single hair off your balls, Winchester."

**5. "Fresh Prince"**

"When a couple of guys-who were up to no good-started makin' trouble in my neighborhood!" Blaise, whom thought she was alone for the moment while Sam showered, sang and stepped to every verse to the theme of a famous nineties sitcom. "I got in one little fight and my mom got scared!" With a twirl, her mouth started to form the words to the next line before her brain could comprehend Sam standing there, in nothing but a towel, staring at her almost naked form in amusement. "Let me guess, she said, "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air"?"

Her smile stretched across her features, curving upwards the blush that tinted her cheeks. "I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said "fresh" and had dice in the mirror!"

Sam threw his head back, his bare chest shaking with amusement as his beloved continued her dancing, not really caring if he was there or not. "If anything I could say that this cab was weird, but I thought 'nah, forget it', "Yo' home, to Bel Air!"

"Yo, baby," Sam started as he dropped the towel, reciting his favorite pick up line he remembered from Will Smith. "Your feet must be tired 'cause you've been runnin' through my mind all day!"

Blaise laughed continuously, her breath coming in short burst as she stepped closer to the still dripping wet Sam, circling her arms low around her waist. "You know how in a movie when the guy would say something witty in a moment like this, getting the girl and then moving on to having wild, passionate relations?" Sam nodded and Blaise stuck out her tongue. "That wasn't it."

**6. "A Painted Marriage"**

Bold, bright colors splattered the canvas of her art work, before moving on to subtler, calmer colors, a true testament.

The artist here wasn't one for telling others how she felt or putting her thoughts down on paper-no, she didn't trust enough for that. Her way of expressing herself was through color and metaphors.

The current painting was a self portrait, something every artist dreads but has to do every once and a while; the background crazy and cross hatched, before blending into a smooth, calming yellow. "Can I see it now?"

The owner of the surprising voice stood in the doorway of the public art studio where his favorite artist took up residence at that very moment. "If you can't see it from there, you'd have to be blind."

Sam, previously mentioned voice owner, rolled his eyes from where he stood, "You always get this way, you know...when you paint, I mean."

"In what way do I get?"

"Withdrawn. Too calm to be the Blaise every else knows." Now it was her turn to roll eyes. She couldn't see what he meant. Sure: she actually sat still in order to paint, to concentrated to utter more than a few words. Like now.

Sam finally stepped forward, coming to wrap his arms around the woman he wanted to claim as his. Locking arms around her abdomen, standing behind her and breathing in her strawberry scented shampoo, Sam murmurs, "I keep telling you..."

"And I keep telling you you're wrong." Blaise wiggled her way out of the man's hold. They had been together for three years last week, and now he was making unreasonable requests, things he knew from the beginning weren't for her.

"And you," Sam tried not to have a mocking tone of voice with her. "Keep saying you're not interested-never have been-in these things. I don't believe you."

Blaise picked up her canvas, throwing it in the garbage on her way out the door. "Then you're more of a fool than I thought, Winchester." Her form disappeared as the front door out of the building closed, leaving Sam behind.

"A fool," he picked the discarded canvas out of the otherwise empty can. "Who just wants to marry the girl that drivers him utterly insane."

**7. "Friday the Thirteenth" **

Seeing the sonograph was supposed to make tears suddenly appear in her eyes, Blaise guessed. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn't meant to be a mother in the first place. "This is all her damn fault. But I promised Riley to be nice..."

Sam sat beside her, staring in awe at the screen displaying everything in her stomach. "It looks like a mutant peanut."

The Ultra Sound Tech looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or call child protective services. "Yes, well, as the trimesters pass, your child will look more like a baby and a little less like a immature fetus."

Blaise rolls her eyes, already done with the situation. She thinks as if any of her hunting mates would actually let her _do _anything, hunting wise. "How much longer 'til I pop?"

Sam gave me a hesitant, reproachful look. He was smart enough to know this much about me, at least. Too bad he wasn't smart enough to wrap it up.

Smarter than the Technician, anyways, whom was smiling as he typed a few commands into the computer. "You're due date is," he looked over at me, smiling like he was giving the most exciting news of the century. "Friday, May thirteenth."

"Figures," I sigh.

"Uh," Sam spoke up. "Is that definite?"

The man's eyebrows scrunched up, his face morphed into one of confusion. "No, Mrs. Winchester could be induced, have the baby late, or even early. Though we prefer not too early. Nothing is definite, but, from the date of conception you gave on the paperwork, the math should be pretty accurate."

"What is the date?" Sam grinned to himself. He knew the exact date. After all, he did it on purpose, but Blaise didn't need to know that.

**8. "Wanted: Rush"**

In hine sight, I shouldn't have done it, but to be fair, I didn't steal the car, only the engine.

Maybe, just maybe, I was guilty. Then, and only then, would I feel bad about this.

What I was doing was technically considered "illegal" but who was keeping count? I wasn't. I had a guy waiting for me, though, and he had probably been out of his mind searching for me. I feel guilty about that, but I always come back. He should know that much by now.

I needed the rush, to feel myself enveloped in chaos once more before my version of "settling down" crushed my soul forever. I don't want to be one of those house wives (I don't want to be a house wife at all, actually, but I'm using this as an example) who steals from the grocery store while everyone was at work or school.

So, with my last foreseeable rush, I ran. I made my escape to the bad lands and now my conscious, and perhaps my heart, was pulling me back to _him_.

**9. "Dead"**

I never thought of losing her. It wasn't a possibility in my mind. Being with her, joining her in the fire that burned so brightly, was a wild ride. One with more ups than downs, even if the downs were so, so low. Joining her was the best decision I ever made. No regret.

"Sam?" My brother and his wife, Riley, appeared in the door, their concern already evident. Dean never really liked Blaise, and his wife wasn't there to see the light leave her bright, sparking blue eyes. She was in pain, of course she was, but it didn't matter to me at the moment. "Riley, Dean," I breathed, barley holding in my sorrow and anger.

"You've been staring at her picture for days now." Dean was interrupted from an elbow in his stomach. "It's time for the funeral, Sam."

Riley came to kneel next to me, "And your kids are wondering where you are."

**10. "Meeting the Parents"**

Sam nervously fixed his clothing at the front door of a yellow house. "Relax," Blaise said into his neck. "If she doesn't like you, which she will, then...I still don't give a fuck."

All he can do at this point is relax, Sam supposed. Blaise didn't like her mother to begin with, though he didn't know why, and felt it wasn't his place to question it.

Blaise gasped, realizing something she had previously forgotten. "Oh, give me some gum!" Her smile reached fully across her face, a first since he had asked to meet her mother to officially announce their engagement. "My mom hates gum."

Sam, whom was currently pulling a packet of gum from his front shirt pocket, rolled his eyes. "This is going to be awkward for me, isn't it?"

Shrugging, she knocked heavily on the door. "Probably," her word interrupted at the loud popping of her gum.

_REVIEW! _


	2. Chapter 2

**Worshipping The Fire**

_Sorry this update took so long. I have been working on an original story lately, not to mention I feel like my work has become...boring? Stupid? Melancholy? Bland? I have no idea, but I knew I didn't like the feeling. Hopefully this will get me out of my writing funk. _

_So here is another ten melancholy one shots. _

**11. "Perfume"**

"Riles?"

A blonde, currently twitching out of her car ridden slumber mumbled a gargled, "What?" before promptly arching her back and started to fall back asleep.

"What's that stank?" Riley ever so elegantly lifted her arm and took a sniff of her armpit before shaking her head. "I don't know, Blay." It wasn't much, but it was the only answer she could give her at that moment in the way of an answer. Riley didn't have the energy to stay awake very long or voice her opinion that, yes, something did indeed smell highly rank.

Blaise wrinkled her nose as she switched lanes. She couldn't place the smell that was coming from somewhere in the car, and she didn't like that. Was it her imagination or was it getting stronger?

Suddenly, Riley sat up from her reclined position. "Ugh, that does reek." Her entire face crinkled in disgust. "It's like...something masculine puked in the back of your car!"

At that, Blaise had enough. She couldn't stand not knowing anymore. The Camaro pulled off to the side of the road, her expression turning into that of determination.

Both Riley and Blaise set their seats forward to explore the depths of the shallow bench seats. Blaise searched her hand under the surface of the seats, hoping not to touch anything too disgusting, when her fingers grazed the smooth, slightly damp surface of a bottle of some sort.

Pulling the mystery object from the dark, shallow depths to light, Blaise was wrought into a speechless stupor for one of the first times in her life.

Only to be pulled out when Riley's helpless fits of laughter, barley having the breath to giggle out: "Your baby daddy wears perfume!"

A leaking glass bottle was to blame for the offensive smell. It was covered in a label promising to attract women in droves, and it was clearly lying. Not only did it advertise promiscuity, but, in sharpie, was the name of Blaise's fiancé and the father of her child, written in bold cursive. Probably the reason it was abandoned in the first place.

"Oh, I have to pee now!" Riley gasped out between fits of laughter, her hand resting on her yet-to-show pregnant belly from her forming second child. "Best road trip yet."

**12. Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree**

Three children spread themselves, and their toys, around the floor of a cheap motel room as a baby rested in the arms of his eternally beautiful mother. They didn't pay attention, lost in imaginative fantasies where anything could happen, to the two women responsible for their lives chatting from seated positions near the front window. Even if Jake was old enough to know what his mother and aunt where cackling about, he wouldn't have tuned into their wave length, having learned to exercise caution long before then.

"He didn't do anything?"

"No," Jake's red headed aunt swiped her tongue quickly over a row of white teeth, a habit she had picked up for when she was particularly annoyed. "Just looked confused. No idea why I was mad."

The boy in question looked up from the game he was playing with his younger cousin on the floor to see his mother scrunch her eye brows together. "Well, you can be a little confusing sometimes, Blay. Your brain just moves way," Riley's eyes widened before rolling and releasing a sigh of exasperation. "Too fast for everyone to keep up. Especially not one of our idiot husbands."

The cackling suddenly re-erupted from the parental units sitting near the window, only to be interrupted by the strange actions of the little girl and her Barbie's. "Babe," the child recited from one of the scenes she had witnessed at some time, her voice a masculine impression as she moved the male doll. "I don't know why you're acting this way!"

Riley lifted her elegant eyebrow, not noticing that the door behind her had opened to reveal two intrigued brothers.

"Are you stupid? You never listen to anything I say!" The little girl lifted the plastic Barbie's arm towards Ken's head. Whether Barbie wanted to or not, she then proceeded to yank the male doll's head completely off and watch it bounce across the room.

The room was silent for a moment as the copy-cat child finally noticed the eyes on her person, her cheeks filling with a blush before pulling into a cheeky grin.

"Well...I see the apple really doesn't fall far from that tree." The shorter of the two men standing in the door way sighed, his mouth set.

"Daddy!" The girl looked at her paternal figure, her arms reaching up in a clear gesture. The man took the hint, moving forward to pick his precious daughter up from her spot on the floor, ignoring the laughter coming from the direction of his giant of a brother. "Shut it, Sam."

**13. Mastermind**

No matter how he tried, he couldn't plan the game. He used to pride himself in his ability to plan and strategize down to the final moment of each puzzle, of each game, of each strike. Each piece was perfectly selected. Each move thought out ten-fold.

One day, however, a new player stepped up to bat. Challenging him with sparkling, clever eyes and an attitude in tow.

At first, he had stayed far away from her, choosing to avoid this new player all together.

That didn't last long. She played like she owned the game.

Like she invented the game.

Maybe she did.

After, what kind of Mastermind would Sam Winchester be if he didn't know who's game it truly was.

**14. Play Date**

"Bye Riley!" A door slams before high heeled footsteps run, the sound echoing in the house. Riley sighed, her eyes still wide as a car started, speeding out of her driveway with the force of a Camaro engine.

The children Speedy had left didn't stay still for long.

Chubby legs pushed forward to chase chubby cousin legs around her house, violent crashing sounds echoing in their wake.

_So this is their definition of a play date, huh?_

**15. Thanksgiving**

Both male Winchester's and their wives arrived at the O'Connor household, children in tow, Sunday best chaffing their necks.

Sandra Faye was Blaise's mom and, as mean as they heard she could be, Ms. O'Connor was nice enough to graciously invite the whole crew to Thanksgiving dinner at her house.

Dean shrugged. Riley jumped up and down in excitement. "Blaise, your mom's cooking is the _best!_"

Sam and Blaise? They cringed.

The yellow front door finally opened, revealing a wide eyed Sandra Faye, her tiny arms open in a gesture of welcome. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!"

**16. Sing**

Sam never thought of his wife as an excellent singer, preferring his iPod to the vocal talents of anyone he knew. He was to eat his words today, though, because there was his wife in a rocking chair, her swollen ankles elevated, and her mouth forming the words to the most beautiful song he ever heard.

Ena, their baby girl, was in her arms, content to rock back and forth all night long. "Blaise."

"Hm?"

"What is it you're singing?"

**17. Phantom**

The smell of burning photo paper drifted up to his nose, a phantom whiff of remembrance for his old life. A life full of laughter and hunting. No one really thought about the ghost their life would leave behind, or the fact that it might come back to haunt them.

They didn't care.

It was all just a phantom on their edge of the conscious mind. A fray. A loose end.

**18. Companion**

They say a dog is man's best friend and, I suppose, they might be right. What they don't mention, however, is that companionship can come from many places.

It can come from a husband, a child, a cat. Even a goldfish. The point is not being lonely. That's all anyone ever wants: to not be alone.

It can even come from the puppy dogs eyes of a gentle giant you just met. Whatever it takes to stop that lonely feeling.

**19. Maybe**

"Maybe isn't good enough!"

"And why not?"

Blaise closed her eyes, refraining from stooping down to the level petty-ness her husband so quickly parachuted to with an answer like 'and why not'. She didn't want to say it, but he sounded like a child. "Maybe was always good enough before, Sam."

"It's not, now." Sam's face was getting a shade darker every moment he argued with the infuriating woman in front of him. "Yes, or no? It's a simple question."

A long pause stretched before them before a giggle signaled the stooping of levels; the other opponent turning to leave in a fit of giggles. Red, wavy hair bounced with each step. "Maybe yes, maybe no."

**20. A Rose By Any Other Name**

"Gwen?" Sam called out, already knowing the answer and flipping to the next page of the book.

"No. Too...No. Just...no."

"So," the gentle giant shifted his leg underneath him. "Let me get this straight...We've looked through three whole baby books in the last two weeks and still haven't found _one_ name for either gender you like?"

Blaise rolled her eyes, resting her hand on her bulging stomach as Sam rubbed her swollen feet. "Sounds about right."

"We're not going to come up with a name as good as Ena's in one of these books, are we?"

Once again nodding, Blaise smiled a tiny smile in his direction. "Sounds about right."

* * *

><p><em>And that's all she wrote. For this time, at least. <em>

_ALSO: I'm moving soon, so most of my updates might be halted as I won't have internet access the first few days I move in. BUT I will have my computer, so that means lots to update for when I __do__ have internet!_


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